My Mighty Toddler

Holding him while he sleeps, he seems so small.

Even though his legs dangle well out of my lap.

And his head covers my entire bicep.

In his sleep he reaches and strokes my collar bone.

Chubby ivory digits so soft against my skin.

His hand is gentle,

precious,

small.

Lying in bed next to his sister, he seems so big.

He is the same length as she,

while she's curled in her fetal sleeping position.

His head perched on a pillow big enough for an adult,

yet it fits him.

He's no longer a baby.

My heart aches for time to slow down just a little.

Every day seems to move a little faster.

And he runs.

He runs with delight to keep up with his sisters.

He runs with determination to not be left behind.

He runs, leading the charge to the next game they will play.

He's running a race he doesn't even know.

And my prayers speed up.

I pray for the toddler he is,

The boy he is becoming,

And the man he will one day be.

A mighty man of God.